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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372082">An Eye to the Future</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverHenry919/pseuds/foreverHenry919'>foreverHenry919</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Forever (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Guilt, Hope, Past Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:29:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverHenry919/pseuds/foreverHenry919</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora had been arrested for shooting and killing a young nurse named Anne Peyton after she’d jumped in front of Henry and taken the bullet meant for him. Three days after Anne’s funeral, he leaves his life in England behind with an eye to the future. </p><p>A one-shot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henry Morgan/Anne Peyton, Henry Morgan/Nora Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Eye to the Future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do not own Forever TV show 2014-2015 or any of its characters. I just wish they were back on TV with new episodes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He should have just left right after and not gone to Anne’s funeral. That way he wouldn’t have been forced to keep up the lie to her family, friends, and their co-workers that, yes, the old woman who’d shot her was deranged; or too senile to realize that he, a strapping young man in his 30’s, couldn’t possibly be her old husband!</p><p>They didn’t know how wrong they were.</p><p>They’d also laughed and he’d remained silent as if to agree that if the old fellow were alive somewhere, he was simply hiding from her.</p><p>They didn’t know how <em>right</em> they were.  </p><p>And he should never have visited Nora in her prison cell. That way he wouldn’t have seen how pitiful her circumstances now were. He’d promised to visit her again but he knew he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. It would have been better if he had just turned a cold heart to what both women had once meant to him and opted for self-preservation by skulking out of town under cover of night. Why was he not born with a cold heart or the ability to make cold-hearted decisions? If he had, he’d be on a ship now, either crossing the Channel into Europe or the Atlantic into North America to start a new life. Why did he always feel the need to place the wants and needs of others above his own?  </p><p><em> “Our family doesn’t blame you, Henry,”  </em> Anne’s brother, Daniel, a local constable, had told him two days before the funeral<em>. “There was no way anyone could have conceived what that mad old bat was capable of.” </em>  </p><p>Mad old bat. He may not have known what she was capable of --- certainly, not murder --- but he should have known, remembered, how tenacious she could be when she had her mind made up about something. Henry shook the horrific image of poor Anne dying in his arms after Nora had accidentally shot her, out of his head. No matter that he had been her intended target in order to expose his ability to die and rebirth and, therefore, prove that she was not mad ---  </p><p> </p><p><em> “The world must know of this miracle!” </em> Nora had shouted before firing the gun at him. </p><p> </p><p> --- he felt strongly that it was all his fault. The unhappy fate of both women had rested in his hands and he had let them both down.  </p><p>Anne should have been told about his condition. No ... shown. Simply telling his young wife, Nora, many decades ago had not spared him from being carted off to bedlam when she hadn’t believed him. Decades later, after she’d aged into her 70’s and learned that he was still alive and looked not a day older than 35, she’d happily sought him out, hoping to resume their marital state and gain fame and fortune from being the wife of an Immortal man living outside of the realms of mythology or the pages of the Bible.  </p><p>Gladstone medical bag. Books. Clothing. Photos. His large brown eyes roamed over the cozy room he rented in Mrs. Flowerday’s boarding house three blocks from London Hospital, his former place of employment.  </p><p><em> “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”  </em> the Chief of Staff, Dr. Dilworth, had asked him when he’d tendered his resignation<em>. “We’d hate to lose a doctor with your capabilities. No one blames you for any of that unfortunate business, Henry.”  </em> </p><p>Unfortunate business? Unfortunate business?? It was his lies and deception that had led to the murder of Anne and insanity and death for Nora. Unfortunate business, indeed! </p><p>Henry reminded himself that he couldn’t leave anything behind that might be used to trace him to his new home in a new country. Letters! The letters Anne had written to him. How could he have forgotten those?   </p><p>“I hate all of this; running away like this,” Henry said out loud to the empty room.  </p><p>After checking the time on his pocket watch, he remembered that the letters were in the top left bureau drawer tied in a bundle with a bright red ribbon. After retrieving them, he sighed heavily as he held them. He was torn between taking them with him and destroying them all. The ash bin was downstairs and in the back of the boarding house but he just couldn’t toss them in there as if they had meant nothing to him. Anne had poured out her words of love for him onto paper and they had warmed his old heart. Her affection had reignited the flame of desire in him. A flame that he’d thought permanently extinguished by Nora’s actions decades earlier. Seeing her at the hospital was one reason he’d enjoyed working there so much. Although he hadn’t fallen in love with her yet, she’d woken up so many dormant emotions in him to almost make up for it. In time, he felt he would have loved her and maybe even married her. But he hadn’t worked up the nerve to share his secret with her. So, his thoughts had returned full circle once again to the fact that if she had known, she never would have tried to protect him that day. She would still be alive. Nora wouldn’t be in jail awaiting the hangman’s noose.  </p><p>The Immortal doctor ran a hand frustratedly through his hair again and walked over to his open medical bag. He traced his thumb over the ribbon’s knot before placing the bundle of letters inside and snapping it shut. Then a quick recheck to make sure his steamer trunk was properly locked. He swallowed back his emotions for he had cared for Anne. Deeply. A knock at the door snapped him out of his dark thoughts.</p><p>An employee from the transport company he’d hired that would take charge of his belongings, announced his arrival from the other side of the door. Suit coat buttoned, fedora, watch, and scarf all properly situated, he grabbed his medical bag before opening the door.  </p><p>vvvv  </p><p>The voyage on the passenger ship, Victoria, had been shorter than he’d expected and uneventful. As he disembarked and dredged up enough workable French from memory to hire transport from the ship to his hotel, he recalled with great sadness --- but resolve that he’d done the right thing --- when he’d committed Anne’s letters to the deeps of the English Channel. For this was the start of a new beginning, a new life for him, in Paris.  </p><p>Two of his fellow passengers, a newlywed couple on their honeymoon, had entertained him recently with dinner conversation about looking forward to wandering the streets of Paris with no particular itinerary. It all sounded oddly romantic to him and he envied them that they had that adventure to look forward to. What a wonderful, unique idea, he thought to himself. If the raven-haired beauty, Anne, had lived, and if their love had grown, it would have been wonderful to wander with her in Paris. Getting lost is what the young couple had called it.  </p><p>Perhaps one day, he told himself. In the far, far future of his long life after his heart had healed sufficiently from all of this “unfortunate business”, he might actually want to enjoy getting lost in Paris with someone. Someone --- very special. After all, no one knows what the future may hold. And the best way to put the past behind you was to keep an eye to the future.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The ship, Victoria, actually sailed from London England to New York on 19 March 1860 per the web site  http://www.olivetreegenealogy.com/ships/tousa1860-1870.shtml</p></blockquote></div></div>
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